Friday, February 09, 2018

Get me the Sergeant, please!

"St Kilda Police Station. Yes, the Sergeant’s desk." 

Larry scrawls the number onto the shiny, grimy phone booth wall with a carpenter’s pencil then dials with determination. 

"I want to speak with the sergeant please. No, I need to speak to the sergeant. Look, why won’t you put me through to the sergeant?" 

While the ‘annoying prick’ of a Constable plays his daily phone battle with Larry, just a heartbeat, a heartbreak away the guy and gal hipster crew dish up plates of smashed avo on sourdough (Veg) (V) dusted with dukkah served alongside deconstructed chai lattes. 

An ageing rock star - who still does it for the cool kids - saunters by with perfect sideburns on his morning trip to the 711. The AGE and perhaps the odd pack of Craven As. If you please. 

Latte constructed I watch as Larry slams the phone back in its cradle, pockets his pencil and disappears into the Acland St throng.

New Year on Blessington

The suburban bomber squad fuelled on grog and greasy kebabs careens along Barkly St, like a flock of unruly plaster ducks on a suburban lounge room wall. 

Talking shit, feeling no pain, they encounter an early morning obstacle. ‘Happy New Year my boys!’ The pack splits. 

Terry pisses unsteadily against the giant palm tree on Blessington. Frank lurches on to some unknown, unworthy goal. AJ stops in his tracks as the shiny new unhinged hipster plaything starts rapping in the most unlikely - yet highly fluent - fashion. 

From my perch on high I watch rapper man let loose his words, a snatch of “pussy” and “dick” drifting up in the cool, piss tainted breeze. AJ stands flapping his arms by his side in sheer delight. A baby magpie about to get the worm, while his bomber crew stumbles into the night oblivious to the new world order.
Testing, 1,2, 3...

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

Don't Mess With Mama!

We all loved being tucked into our beds at night and now many of us are doing likewise for our own children. And checking in the cupboard to make sure the Boogie Man isn't there. And under the bed. And... enough already, shut-up and go to sleep!

Ahem, which leads us on to the first film ticket giveaway for 2013, the super scary 'Mama', from the seriously freaky Mexican director Guillermo del Toro.

Guillermo del Toro presents Mama, a supernatural thriller that tells the haunting tale of two little girls who disappeared into the woods the day that their parents were killed.  When they are rescued years later and begin a new life, they find that someone or something still wants to come tuck them in at night.

The movie stars Jessica Chastain, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Megan Charpentier, and Isabelle Nelisse.

In cinemas from 14 March, The Perth Files has 10 double in-season tickets to give away... to win, simply like this post on facebook, or RT on twitter and tell me the name of Guillermo del Toro's film starting with 'P'.

Winners will be drawn at random and notified on facebook or twitter. Sleep well kiddies!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Welcome to Rottnest Island

I'm just back from my annual two week sojourn to Rottnest Island, my favourite place in the world. For good, or bad, the Perth social media community was kept abreast of my adventures every step of the way... Hey, I like to share.
Speaking of which, this year I shared the experience vicariously with author Robert Drewe, through his new book Montebello. He talks at length of his love of the island and I now know I'm an 'Islophile'... it makes perfect sense! I'd like to discuss our mutual afflication one day, preferably with a glass in hand looking across the bay at the Perth skyline, so close, yet so deliciously far away.

If you've never visited this limestone outcrop just 20km off the coast of Western Australia, I suggest you add it near the top of your bucket list. Slip off your shoes, get used to the sand between your toes and let the stress of mainland life simply float away on the warm currents in one of the, tranquil, turquoise bays that lie around every corner.

Oh, there's lots more to do than simply bob around in the Indian Ocean after a brisk bike ride, but hey, that's what I do best. After that I might retire to my lattice framed bungalow with a good book (thanks Rob!) and a glass of wine... breathing in the salt-laden breeze, laced with the perfume of Rottnest Island Pines and sun cream - could it be bottled? - listening to the crunch of bike tyres on gravel.

As I've blogged before, I've been visiting the Island since before I was born. Bungalow 5 is no longer there and neither are my much-loved Nan and Grandad who passed-on this passion. Nan, the purveyor of the famous cream buns, shoo-er of rogue quokkas and queen of the card nights. Grandad, the catcher of herring, reclined on his cot on standard issue R.I.B army blankets, preparing tackle for the next day, or reading his pulp fiction cowboy and indian novels. But the tradition continues.

I've walked and ridden almost every corner of the island. I learned to ride my bike at the northern end of Thomson Bay and now two of my three children have done likewise, on the exact same stretch of road. It's number three's turn next year.

In years to come, my children and grandchildren will carry the same fond memories and love of this special Island. They'll teach their kids to ride in the same place and snorkel across the same reefs. And as the ferry pulls away from the jetty on the return trip to Fremantle, they'll hug them close and stroke them reassuringly on the back as the tears fall for having to leave it all behind.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Time to get Pitch slapped!

If you've had a gutful of Glee, then it's time to get your PITCH slap on! Freocookster's Follies is giving away 20 free double passes to the advance screening of Jason Moore's hilariously tuneful new film Pitch Perfect, starring Anna Kendrick (Up in The Air), Rebel Wilson (Bridesmaids), Brittany Snow (Hairspray), Christoper Mintz-Plasse (Superbad, Kick-Ass), John Michael Higgins (Bad Teacher) and Elizabeth Banks (Hunger Games).

To win, all you need to do is visit the Freocookster's Follies Facebook page and tell me why the hell you deserve to join me on the night. Please note, SINGING IN THE SHOWER videos will be an automatic qualifier, unless you're really, really bad.
Go crazy Perth!

You can do likewise on Twitter via @freocookster or my Thunder Buddy @tweetperth. Don't forget to use the hash tag #PitchPerfect... and you can follow the film on twitter @pitchperfect

When: Wednesday, 14 November
Where: Event Cinemas, Innaloo
Time: 6.30pm

About the Movie:
Beca (Anna Kendrick) is that girl who’d rather listen to what’s coming out of her headphones than what’s coming out of you.  Arriving at her new college, she doesn’t fit in, but somehow is forced into a group that she never would have picked on her own: alongside mean girls, sweet girls and weird girls whose only thing in common is how good they sound when they sing together, in the new out-loud comedy PITCH PERFECT. Loaded with new versions on old favorite songs to hit songs of right now that are seamlessly mixed together, mashed-up and arranged like you’ve never heard before.
PITCH PERFECT is directed by Jason Moore, who opened our eyes to the very misbehaved life of puppets in the surprise Broadway sensation Avenue Q.

In cinemas December 6
Website and cool downloads fo shizz:

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

You wouldn't be dead for quids

It had been a quiet night at the Kelly Club by any standards. Big Billy had put a couple of boof-head wannabes on their arses early in the night and Les had to backhand a young buck who thought it'd be a good idea to "take the bow-tie off the bouncer."

Bad mistake. "There's one less tooth that'll be coming along on your wedding day," he muttered as the young bloke's mates dragged him away.

By the time they closed the doors just shy of 2am, Les was already yawning and well and truly ready to hit the fart sack when Eddie came down the stairs.

"You find that bloke's tooth you big goose?" Eddie chimed, poking a friendly left jab into Les' ribcage.

"Fuck off Salita, if I'd let you handle him the poor prick'd have another hole in his stupid head and be buried in the foundations of that new high rise in Balmain," he shot back with a grin.

"Yeah, whatever mate. I let you handle all the tough ones," Eddie said, returning the smile.

For a deadly assasin, Eddie was one of the nicest and most genuine blokes Les had ever known. He'd crawl through broken glass for a mate, but could kill a man in a crowded elevator without anyone noticing a thing.

"Anyway, Price wants to see us in his office," Eddie said. "Fat George was looking as pale as an albino Norwegian with a bad case of anemia when I saw him half an hour ago, so it can't be good news."

Fuck, that's all Les needed. Odds on that in half an hour he'd be tearing down the freeway with a dead body in the back of the Berlina, or fumbling around in the dark trying to blow up another Bondi landmark.

He followed Eddie up the stairs and through the thick wooden doors of the casino boss's office. Inside Price was propped behind his desk and George was slumped in an antique chair nursing a large scotch on his gut. Billy was already inside and walked over to Les with a cold XXXX.

"You could use this mate, all those skinny kids you had to bash up tonight. Must take it out of you?"

"Christ, not you too! A poor bloke could develop a complex. What will I tell my therapist?"

Ordinarily Price and George would've chipped in to score some cheap points on the big red-headed Queenslander, but not tonight. Something was wrong and Les noticed that George was red eyed from crying.

"Les, we've got some terrible news mate. I think you should sit down for this one," Price said, gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk.

The hairs on Les' neck were standing up and he had a sinking feeling in his gut as he pulled up the chair and lowered his big frame down into the red velvet cushions.

"Les, there's no easy way to say it. We found out this afternoon that Bob finally lost his battle with Jack Dancer. I'm sorry mate, he died peacefully at home in Terrigal this morning," Price said looking down into the glass of brandy he was swirling in his hand.

The blood drained from Les' considerable head and the cold XXXX bottle almost slipped from between his numb fingers.

"Fuck. But how? He was dead set convinced he'd found a cure. Last time I saw him he winked at me and said, see you in the next book mate, it'll be a real ball tearer. It's about time we sent you to Broome."

"Mate, I saw him two days ago and the last thing he said to me when I asked how he was getting along was, wouldn't be dead for quids," Eddie added.

At that moment all eyes in the room locked together in a moment of awful mutual understanding. They had been together since the mid-80s, across 27 books and countless brawls, booze-ups, road trips, murders, bombings and bashings. They'd thrown the odd "good sort" up in the air, travelled the world, enjoyed many a "delicious", smoked the best Bob Hope and even sent their enemies to the sharks.

Could it be possible that it was all over?

Les rose like a dead-weight from his seat, drained the last of his XXXX, belched quietly into the back of his hand and moved towards the door.

"I have to go home. I don't suppose anyone's told Woz yet?"

"No mate, we thought it might be best if he heard it from you. Billy saw him get home from that film shoot up the North Coast on his way in, so I think he's in for the night," said Price emptying his glass.

"It's a shit situation mate. Bob was a diamond and the bastard could write a yarn that reached out to everyone. I'll organise a drink and we'll say our farewells in true Robert G Barrett style, but for now I think we all need to go home and get some sleep."

Les just nodded, ran his hand through his curly red hair and started for the door. There were pats on the back all round and Billy muttered something about the surf club in the morning, but Les was spent - he felt like a pen that'd run out of ink, a blank page.

He climbed wearily behind the wheel of the Berlina and turned into the bright lights of Darlinghurst Road. Cold Chisel's Flame Trees was the soundtrack as he headed home to Chez Norton, a single tear rolling down his craggy cheek.

"You wouldn't be dead for quids Bob, you wouldn't be dead for quids..."

Monday, September 17, 2012

Let's go MENTAL Perth...

Oh man, you Perth people are like cray-zeee... So, how about we all go Mental? Freocookster's Follies and Tweet Perth are giving away free double passes to the advance screening of PJ Hogan's hilarious new Australian comedy Mental, starring Toni Collette, Liev Schreiber, Anthony LaPaglia, Rebecca Gibney, Caroline Goodall, Kerry Fox, Deborah Mailman and Sam Clark.

To win, all you need to do is visit the Facebook page, click on the ever reliable 'LIKE' button and if you really want to make it simple for me, leave a comment. Make it wacky!

You can also win tickets simply by re-tweeting my #MentalPerth tweets via @freocookster, or via my Thunder Buddy @tweetperth. Don't forget to use the hashtag... and you can follow the film on twitter @shazismental

When: Monday, 24 September
Where: Hoyts Carousel, Cannington
Time: 6.30pm
About the Movie:
The Moochmore girls are certain they all suffer from some kind of undiagnosed mental illness - because if they’re not crazy then they’re just unpopular. Their mother Shirley - unable to cope with her demanding daughters and unsupported by her philandering politician husband, Barry - suffers a nervous breakdown. After Barry commits his wife to a mental hospital (telling his constituents that “she’s on holiday”) he finds himself alone with 5 teenage girls he barely knows. Desperate, he impulsively picks up a hitchhiker named Shaz and installs her in his home as nanny to his daughters.
In cinemas October 4